


Like An Echo

by ShinyMilotics



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, F/F, Femslash, Finger Sucking, Forbidden Love, Lesbian Character, Mild Sexual Content, Non-Graphic Smut, Pining, hide yo kids hide yo wife, i wrote something short, the world really is coming to an end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-13 21:07:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11193438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShinyMilotics/pseuds/ShinyMilotics
Summary: "She’s not certain if she’s saying it out loud anymore. If she’s moaning it. If she’s hardly letting the sound leave her lips, nothing more than the ghost of the pictures painting themselves in her mind.And it’s all she sees. All she sees is Corrin. Corrin, Corrin, — the woman who had somehow taken over her, heart and mind and body and soul, without even realizing it."





	Like An Echo

**Author's Note:**

> wow, shiny, you actually wrote a NON-EXPLICIT drabble under 2k words
> 
> I love this pairing. I will defend it until I die.

_Lady Corrin. Lady Corrin. Lady Corrin._

The name resonates in her mind, over and over, like an echo.

She’s not certain if she’s saying it out loud anymore. If she’s moaning it. If she’s hardly letting the sound leave her lips, nothing more than the ghost of the pictures painting themselves in her mind.

And it’s all she sees. All she sees is Corrin. Corrin, Corrin, — the woman who had somehow taken over her, heart and mind and body and soul, without even realizing it.

The vow she’d once made to the dark princess had been insincere, to be sure. An act, a mask, something to keep her from being punished even more. As if her life until then hadn’t been punishment enough.

Her younger self would’ve never predicted so. Would never have imagined that this woman, this _lady_ , this _Lady Corrin_ would be the object of her highest affections. Her greatest desire, that which kept her up at night, with her hand creeping slowly, slowly down the outer fabric of her uniform.

During these nights she’d tremble, writhe and whimper in her bed as she muttered to herself _Lady Corrin, Lady Corrin_ ; as she brought herself to her peak with lithe movements of her fingers. And then she’d have to pray to all gods that the walls were thick enough to keep her whines from reaching the ears of others in the castle.

Because _gods_ if she didn’t want Corrin. She did. She wasn’t certain how or when it had started, but she _craved_ Corrin, craved those hands on her body, craved lips against hers, bodies pressing together and smothering any and all distance between them like they could just burn right then and there, together, as they belonged. Or, rather, as she wished they would.

And it was where she wished to belong. With Corrin. On Corrin. In that moment she was ready to prove it before anyone. Her mind blocked out all else, until there was nothing left, save for her lady. Her lady and those clever hands. That soft touch, that hot tongue, those whispers in her ear —

“Flora,” they sang, setting fire to the cold blood running through her veins, “Flora,”

And Flora bit her lip hard, because it may have seemed like the ultimate betrayal, but she was willing to give up her soul if it meant she’d get to spend the night with her liege that she’d come to covet and adore so much.

 _Ah, her liege_ , Flora thought. Was Corrin her liege by circumstance? Because she was violently coerced into such a position? Or because she’d come to genuinely see Corrin as the object of her devotion? Because she would, in fact, throw herself into any situation, no matter how dangerous, just to see a smile light up on that pale face?

She didn’t know. She didn’t really want to. It’d be better that way. It’d be better if she didn’t question why or how she’d come to want Corrin _so much._

“Lady Corrin,” Flora says, and it’s hardly above a whisper. It’s a call, a plea.

“None of that,” Corrin responds. She presses her index and middle fingers to Flora’s lips. “No calling me Lady. I’m just Corrin.”

Flora’s expression tightens. Wordlessly, and not quite thinking about it, she parts her lips to take Corrin’s fingers in them. She closes her mouth around them, bringing them in, little by little.

Corrin bites her lip, and Flora smiles just a little at the barely-there display of her sharp fangs. This is good. This is right. She knows that much, if she doesn’t know anything else.

She lets her tongue run over Corrin’s fingers in a languid swipe. She keeps eye contact between them, grey into red. Her eyebrows curve upwards a little. It’s her way of saying I’m yours, I’m yours. And Corrin’s fingers feel _so good_ in her mouth, on her tongue, it’s outside the realm of reason.

 _“Flora,”_ Corrin says, a bit exasperated. “That’s…”

Flora hums something resemblant of a hmm? around the princess’ fingers, putting more pressure on them with her lips. Letting her teeth come down a little harder.

_That’s what, Lady Corrin? Tell me. Tell me everything. I want to hear everything. I want—_

“It’s. It’s good,” Corrin says.

Flora smiles, as much as one can smile whilst having two fingers occupying her mouth. She takes Corrin’s hand in one of hers, holding it, and slowly, slowly pulls her lips away. She loves the clear, wet line that forms between her mouth and Corrin’s fingers.

“I want to make you feel good, Corrin,” she says. She closes her eyes and puts the two fingers back in her mouth, this time sucking on them in a very deliberately erotic manner. She lets her tongue press against them flat, running slow, thorough lines.

Corrin stifles a moan. She shifts her kneeling position on her lavish bed. She is visibly _affected,_ and Flora loves it. She wants to affect Corrin. She wants to return at least a fraction of the endless hours of helpless exasperation her liege has unknowingly caused her.

When her mouth’s grip on Corrin’s fingers finally relents, Corrin’s face is flustered and red. She loves it. Loves that look on her. Loves seeing how her eyes seem to desperately seek shelter in different direction. She wants more of it. Wants to have Corrin at her mercy. She wants to hear more of Corrin calling her name.

_Want me. Want me as much as I want you._

She almost wants to laugh at how pathetic she is. Will she really be that woman? The one to fall for her captor?

Yet, she thinks. Corrin is not her captor. Corrin is not at fault. The princess cannot be blamed for the position she was forced into at birth. She cannot be blamed for the role she was expected to fulfill.

For some incomprehensible reason, it makes Flora want her more. Makes Flora want to kiss her, strip her, beg her for release, beg her for that which she needs so. so badly.

_I love you, Lady Corrin. I love you. I’d do anything for you. I’m sorry I lied. I’m sorry I put on a mask for you. All of me belongs to you. All of me. I’m sorry.  
_

_I’ll always love you._

_Even if I should burn, know that I will always love you._

**Author's Note:**

> Flora Deserved Better. i love this pairing. can you tell? 
> 
> -
> 
> have a suggestion/request, or are interested in commissioning me? shoot me an email at shinycommissions@gmail.com ♡


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